


The Pull of You to Me

by AriadneKurosaki



Series: Not like other demons [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Ishida Uryuu-centric, Minor Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo, Uryuu is an incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriadneKurosaki/pseuds/AriadneKurosaki
Summary: He doesn’t mean to change his entire life in a single night. For years he’s managed to live in accordance with the loose creeds, treaties, and blood oaths that govern creatures like him: the demons, the fae, the other beings that walk amongst the ordinary souls of the earth. The rules for men like Ishida Uryuu are simple: don’t reveal what you are to humans, don’t kill, and don’t do anything that might start a war with one of the other species.In one night, Uryuu manages to do the first, come close to the second, and only narrowly avoid the third.
Relationships: Inoue Orihime/Ishida Uryuu
Series: Not like other demons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033266
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	The Pull of You to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: IshiHime, "Loveliness", NSFW
> 
> I'd been meaning to write more about how Uryuu and Orihime got together in this series, since they're just mentioned in the other two fics. So when I got this prompt that's where my head went. You don't need to have read the other two stories to understand this one.

He doesn’t mean to change his entire life in a single night. For years he’s managed to live in accordance with the loose creeds, treaties, and blood oaths that govern creatures like him: the demons, the fae, the other beings that walk amongst the ordinary souls of the earth. The rules for men like Ishida Uryuu are simple: don’t reveal what you are to humans, don’t kill, and don’t do anything that might start a war with one of the other species.

In one night, Uryuu manages to do the first, come close to the second, and only narrowly avoid the third.

It starts out like any normal night: with a hunt. He tidies his studio, shutting down his computer and sweeping fabric cuttings and threads first from the tables and then the floor. There are half a dozen samples still in the muslin stage, and he tucks those away, then hefts bolts of colorful fabric into their storage cubbies and wipes down his sewing machine and serger.

Last but not least, Uryuu turns off the lights with a snap of his fingers, then locks up. He takes the steps to the roof and breathes in the warm spring air. It’s still early enough in the season that it’s already full dark – the hunt will be easier. He breathes deep, scenting.

At first there’s nothing of interest; just schoolchildren walking home and sports teams practicing, couples going out to dinner. The office workers are largely still inside. Uryuu takes another breath, and suddenly feels a _tug_.

“Hmm.” He can’t quite pinpoint it, but _that’s_ interesting. It isn’t a scent; it’s something pulling at him ever so gently, as if to say _I’m here, come find me_. His wings slide into being, through the custom openings he’s sewn in his shirt and jacket, and Uryuu takes a running leap from the top of the building. His wings snap out, catching the wind so that he glides over the city.

He wonders, briefly, if it’s a beacon. He’s never been drawn by one, but there are stories about the lower demons getting caught up in Osaka and even in the outskirts of Tokyo. Uryuu follows the tugging sensation curiously, passing over the business district and then into an area with a number of restaurants and cafés. The tugging has become much stronger and Uryuu thinks he must be on top of it. He finds an empty alleyway and lands, pulling his wings back into himself with no more than a thought.

Unlike a _certain_ demon he knows, Uryuu easily dims his power until it’s a mere flicker as he steps from the alleyway onto the pavement. He strides confidently along the sidewalk, still following the tugging, and then he sees them: two young women dressed for dinner, one tall and lanky with stylishly short hair, and the other…

Oh. He knows the other woman. Inoue Orihime is the receptionist at the modeling agency he hires for his fashion shows. If he remembers correctly from what she’d chattered the few times while he was in the agency’s office, she’s studying for an advanced degree part-time and using the money from the job to pay for it. _It’s too bad that she’s the receptionist and not a model, herself_ , he thinks suddenly. And his power _spikes_ before he can control it, and Uryuu realizes: Oh. _She’s_ the source of the tugging.

Well, the tugging is _odd_ but if he can get her away from her friend, she’ll be a more than pleasant enough meal for the night. Her curves are soft and voluptuous and her long, auburn hair looks silky to the touch. He follows them into the restaurant and takes a seat at the bar; it’s not his _usual_ practice, but he’s not so hungry that he can’t wait a while.

It’s a few hours later when the women part ways outside the restaurant, and Uryuu slips back into the alleyway so that he can follow Orihime in the air. With a thought he’s invisible to most humans; a witch could see him, he supposes, but there are precious few of those in _this_ country. As he follows her, he considers the tugging once more. She might have an artifact on her, something demonic in origin, but that seems unlikely. The other woman with her was a little odd, herself; he got a whiff of them both when they passed him on the way back outside, and caught _something_ , a faint thread of scent that leaves him even more curious.

Beneath him, Orihime is walking down the steps to a train platform, and Uryuu curses under his breath. He drops down and follows her, absentmindedly pressing his pass on the card reader. She gets on the next train and he follows, trying to keep her in his sight despite the crowds. This time of night, office workers are heading home and the train is unpleasantly crowded.

* * *

She’s not nearly as stupid as people think she is. Orihime can tell that she’s being followed; there’s been an itch between her shoulder blades and a man around her age not far behind her since she left the restaurant and said goodnight to Tatsuki. It’s unfortunate, because she’d rather think about solving her friend’s problem than how to make sure she gets home safe.

Not that she has the first clue of how to help Tatsuki. Orihime’s last romantic relationship went up in flames when her now-ex boyfriend demanded that she drop out of her master’s program. She huffs out a low sigh and tries to ignore the leers from a group of teenagers who are clearly staring at her breasts. Sometimes she wishes she had the money for reduction surgery.

The train comes to a stop and she shoves her way out as politely as she can, shoulders curved in and arms crooked to try and keep away wandering hands. She senses rather than sees the man following her get off the train as well, and huffs out another sigh. She’ll have to take the long way around and maybe hide out in the convenience store for a while. The old lady who runs it won’t mind.

“Inoue-san!” a pleasant, low voice calls, and she stops, turning toward the voice.

“Oh! Ishida-san, it’s good to see you,” Orihime trills, a smile curving on her lips. “I didn’t realize you lived in this neighborhood.”

Uryuu catches up and smiles down at her, gray eyes warm behind his glasses. “I moved recently,” he explains. “It’s much calmer than my old apartment.”

“Ah! Yes, this is such a quiet place. I was surprised when I found it so close to downtown,” Orihime says. She sometimes wishes _this_ man would show a little interest; he’s always so kind to her when he comes to the office. And he’s handsome, with his trim form and dark hair. The thought leaves her when she feels eyes on her again, and Orihime bites her lip and leans in closer to him. “May I tell you a secret, Ishida-san?”

His eyebrow arches, but he gamely leans in closer. “It’s Uryuu, please. And of course you can.”

“Someone’s been following me tonight and I’m a little worried about it.” She keeps her voice soft. “It’s probably nothing, but…”

She doesn’t expect at all the way Uryuu’s eyes darken and the scowl that crosses his face before he hides it. “Please, allow me to walk you home,” he offers.

“Oh! Thank you, that’s so kind. I’m not too far, but it would make me feel so much better.”

Uryuu smiles again, and gestures. “After you, then.”

Orihime smiles up at him again and they walk together for a while, down quiet, well-lit streets. It’s odd, though – she’s starting to feel _warm_ , all of a sudden, and any time she glances up at him she can feel a little bolt of heat go through her. But then the sensation of being watched and followed is back, and she drifts closer to him.

Uryuu notices. He tucks his arm through hers and smiles. “This way, Inoue-san,” he says, and turns left where she would have kept walking straight. Just the touch of his arm, even through his jacket, is almost enough to make her swoon, and her cheeks flush.

“Ah – but my apartment…”

“Have a cup of tea with me first,” he offers.

Before she knows it, they’re at the front door of _his_ apartment, and Uryuu is opening the door to usher her inside. It’s a nice place, bigger than hers and a corner unit on the top floor of the low-rise building. The kitchen, directly ahead of them, makes her eyes widen. “Oh, you must like to cook,” she says as she removes her shoes in the genkan. There cabinets are lacquered with a smoky gray hue, and there’s a beautiful island in the middle of the kitchen, topped with an impeccably white countertop. There are two barstools beside it, both upholstered in soft gray fabric.

“I do. Let me make you a cup of tea. Hopefully whoever followed you will lose interest,” Uryuu murmurs soothingly.

“Thank you.” She takes her jacket off as well and hangs it beside his. His jacket is – odd. There are slits in the back, carefully concealed. Vents in case he gets too hot? Or a fashion statement? The man _is_ a designer, after all. As she follows him into the kitchen and sits down on one of the stools at his gesture, she sees that he has similar slits in the back of his shirt.

It’s odd, but Orihime dismisses it as she watches him set up a kettle and measure loose tea into a pretty blue tea pot with gold lines painted on it. It would be comforting to watch if it wasn’t making her inexplicably aroused and even _wet_ for him. It’s so embarrassing, but at least he doesn’t seem to notice; Uryuu just fills the pot with hot water from the kettle and sets out cups and a little pot of sugar for each of them. He sets a little plate of tea cookies on the counter as well and then sits beside her on the other stool, body angled towards her.

“We’ll let that steep a few minutes,” he says. “How was your day, Inoue-san?”

“Just Orihime, please,” she says, cheeks inexplicably flushed as he looks at her. “The agency was very busy today; designers are already booking for the fall fashion shows and we’ve been onboarding new models too.”

“Hmn. That reminds me, I need to book for fall too,” Uryuu says, and pushes the plate of cookies towards her. She takes one and nibbles on it, blushing as she brushes excess powdered sugar from her lips.

“Call me on Monday,” Orihime urges, “Before we’re booked up. The models like working with you a lot!”

“Ah. Well, that’s good to hear.” Uryuu’s cheeks flush slightly and he pours tea for them both. “Have you ever considered modeling?”

Even through her steady – and still inexplicable – arousal, that hurts. “Don’t tease,” she mumbles, and glances away from him. “No one would ever hire me as a model.”

But Uryuu shifts closer to her and takes her hand in his. He smells _good_ , she realizes suddenly. Spicy and warm like mulled wine in winter, but clean and masculine too. “I’m not teasing,” he promises, voice gone a little husky. “You’re beautiful, and I’d love to see you in my designs.”

“O-oh,” she says softly. “But I’m so…”

“Beautiful,” he says firmly, and between one blink and the next he suddenly has _wings_. They’re big and leathery, and nearly as dark as his hair. Uryuu leans closer and his lips brush against hers, soft and warm.

Orihime practically short-circuits. Her whole body tingles and she’s suddenly _soaked_ , shivering at the slightest touch as she squirms on the stool. “Did – did you put something in the cookies? Am I hallucinating?”

He kisses her again. “Just extra lemon zest,” he jokes, glasses glinting under the overhead lights. “And no, you’re not hallucinating. I’m just an incubus.”

That, at least, explains why she’s soaked through and flushed. Orihime’s hand is still in his, and he’s brushing a thumb over her knuckles gently. “Did you bring me back here just to seduce me? Are you going to kill me?” she demands.

“I’d _like_ to seduce you,” Uryuu admits, and leans down to kiss the pulse point beneath her jaw, making her gasp. “But I don’t _kill_ , and I really do want you to be safe from whoever was following you.” His lips trail along her neck and to the tops of her breasts, just barely visible above the neckline of the soft pink shirt she wears. “If you’re not interested, I’ll stop.”

“O-oh,” she says again, cheeks still heated, as his hands slip beneath the fabric of her top to brush against the skin of her back and then, ever so lightly, the sides of her breasts. “I don’t want you to stop,” Orihime whispers, and Uryuu pulls his mouth from her skin to smirk up at her.

“Then I won’t,” he says simply, and pulls back only long enough to step down from his barstool and pull her into his arms. Orihime wraps her arms around his neck as he carries her from the kitchen into his bedroom. Not surprisingly, it’s tidy, with a bed made with almost military precision. The walls are painted a soft gray and before Uryuu lowers her to the bed Orihime sees that his bedding is pale blue and white. The room strikes her as _impersonal_ ; there’s no art on the walls, nothing on the single nightstand.

He sets his glasses on the nightstand, then snaps his fingers and the light softens, bathing them both in a low gleam. “You look lovely on my bed like that,” he murmurs, and leans in to kiss her again. It’s as though he can sense that she’ll give him free rein, because he doesn’t hesitate: his hands are on her again, lifting her blouse from her and brushing gently over her breasts, over the curve of her hip and the small of her back.

She swears she can feel power around her, and when Uryuu kisses her again it’s much deeper, lips slanting over hers and tongue licking into her mouth. Orihime moans for him, soft and high against his lips, and she pulls him closer, legs framing his hips as she plucks at the buttons of his shirt and then at his belt.

He has to vanish his wings again to get his shirt off, but when they come back his kiss has turned aggressive as he groans her name against her mouth. His trousers drop and Uryuu pulls away long enough to smirk at her. “You’re still overdressed.”

She’s not sure where the sudden swell of confidence comes from, but Orihime shoots back, “Well you can fix that, can’t you?” and blushes when he grins.

“I can,” he agrees, and his fingers find the zipper on her skirt. In a trice she’s in just her panties and bra, a matching set that’s nevertheless not…sexy. At her size, sexy bras aren’t exactly easy to find. She has to resist the urge to cover up as he looks at her, but Uryuu just joins her on the bed and presses his lips to her breasts again. “Everything about you is lovely,” he murmurs roughly. “I thought so that first time I saw you behind your desk.”

“Really?” she asks, as she reaches for him in turn, one arm wrapping around him while the other hand drags through his hair.

“Mmhm,” he agrees, and her bra loosens, suddenly. “Beautiful,” he whispers when the fabric falls away, and drags her closer to lave her skin with his tongue, to suck first one nipple and then the other with kiss-reddened lips. Orihime finds herself gasping for him, his name falling from her lips over and over. When his hand slides into her panties and finds her sex slick for him, she jerks her hips closer reflexively, making him hiss his appreciation.

Then he’s kneeling over her and her panties are dangling from one ankle, her right leg is over his shoulder, and his _mouth_ is on her, lapping at the core of her with long, sure strokes that pull high-pitched gasps from her mouth. Orihime covers her mouth with one hand as she moans until his hand reaches up and tugs it away.

“ _Don’t_ , I want to hear you,” he orders, then dives back in, lips closing on her clit and making her scream for him. Her praise is incoherent, and she doesn’t even know what she’s saying, but it feels so _good_ that she doesn’t ever want him to stop. The second one of his fingers slides into her she falls over the edge, moaning his name and arching her hips, grinding herself against his mouth.

When he raises his head to look at her, she’s pink-cheeked and panting, and biting her lip nervously. “Oh,” Uryuu murmurs. “You’re sensitive, aren’t you? What happens if I do _this?_ ” He slips a second finger in beside the first, and thrusts. His fingers curve, and Orihime bucks again, another high-pitched gasp escaping her.

“ _Uryuu_ ,” she manages, and her cheeks are almost painful, she’s blushing so brightly.

He laughs softly, but not _at_ her, she can tell, and slides up her body. “I love it,” he tells her, and pulls her leg up over his hip. “And now I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to make you come again, because you’re _beautiful_ when you do.”

When he pushes inside her she gives a choked little cry, stretching around him until his hips are pressed to hers and he’s grinding against her, making her moan and cry out for him again. “You have to – you have to move,” she begs, and moans when he slants his mouth over hers. Then he starts to thrust, and she rocks with him, choking out moans and begging for _more_. She clutches at his shoulders, and when her fingertips brush his wings and he _pounds_ into her, Orihime throws her head back and moans low and deep, eyes practically rolling back into her head.

Uryuu’s not stingy with his praise: he’s quick to tell her how good she feels around his cock, how wet she is for him, how beautiful she looks like this. His lips find her breasts again and he braces himself on one hand so he can arch over her and pluck at one nipple with his fingertips while his lips suck on the other. “Do you like this?” he asks breathlessly, as he buries himself in her and circles his hips, grinding against her clit.

“Y-yes,” she cries, and her sex clenches around him so tightly that he groans and hangs his head above her. “I need—”

He focuses on her. “Tell me what you need,” Uryuu coaxes. “You’re mine tonight and I want to give you what you need.”

She feels a little shy, suddenly, but Orihime leans up and whispers into his ear, “I need you to touch me.”

His smirk is there and gone as he starts thrusting again, but this time his hand slips between them and finds the bundle of nerves between her thighs. “Like this?” Uryuu asks, as he angles his thrusts higher to press against a spot that makes her roll her eyes back into her head again.

“ _Yes_ ,” she groans, and white-hot pleasure washes over her again. She clenches tight around him over and over, making him groan her name, and with a few more thrusts he follows, cock seeming to swell inside of her before he falls apart above her, thrusting sharp and shallow as he spends himself inside her.

Orihime flushes as he pulls from her with a rush of their fluids, still rock hard and gleaming in the low light.

“Incubus, remember?” he says by way of explanation, and leans down to kiss her again, thorough and slow. “Get on your knees.”

“Wha-what?”

Uryuu chuckles softly. “You’re going to ride me,” he tells her. “Unless you’d rather not.” He holds his hand out to her and helps her sit up.

“It’s just that I haven’t done this before,” she says, voice soft. He pulls her closer and presses his lips to hers again.

“Well. Let me show you how good it feels, then,” Uryuu murmurs, and kneels beside her. “I’ll be deep inside you, and I can play with your clit until you scream for me again.”

She flushes pink and does as he says, squeaking when his hands find the curves of her hips and tug her back towards him.

“That’s it – spread your legs over mine,” he coaxes. He feels even bigger this way when he presses inside her, and Orihime’s jaw goes slack as he fills her. She’s _so_ wet, so slick, and when his hands urge her along, she rides him, rocking up and down on his cock and grabbing onto the headboard in front of her for stability as he slides one hand around to play with her clit.

“O-oh, _harder_ , she whispers, and his fingers press harder as he rocks up into her, matching her thrust for thrust. His wings sway around her, almost cocooning her, and suddenly she realizes how _safe_ she feels with this demon. It’s – odd, since he’s _fucking_ her. Orihime leans back against his chest and one arm comes back around his neck to hold herself against him. “So _good_ ,” she moans, and when she turns her head his lips are there to meet hers in a rough kiss.

This time when she comes it’s like a wave, one that pulls her under and rockets through her so that she screams his name again and grinds back against him still riding out her pleasure. His arm wraps around her middle tightly and he thrusts hard, filling her even more thoroughly before he comes for her again with a loud groan and a rush of his seed to fill her. He _bites_ , suddenly, teeth harsh against her neck, and Orihime lets out another high-pitched gasp.

Then she blacks out.

When she comes to it’s still night, and he’s got her tucked against him, one hand stroking through her auburn hair while she rests on his shoulder. His wings are gone again.

And Orihime – well, she can’t believe that she’s just had a one-night stand with a _client_. Never mind that he’s also a demon and that apparently demons _exist_. She flushes, embarrassed, and pulls herself from him even though she’d rather stay. “I should get cleaned up and get home,” she whispers.

Uryuu straightens up and looks at her carefully, as though she’s a frightened animal. “You’re welcome to stay the night, Orihime,” he says gently. “I make really good waffles.”

It’s appealing, but it would only delay the inevitable, and so she summons that cheerfulness that’s always close to hand. “I’m sure they’re delicious, but it’s okay! I really do need to get home, I have plans early tomorrow morning…!” And she slips into his shower room before he can protest again. When the door is shut she leans back against it, one hand pressed against her chest, between her breasts.

She feels _pulled_ to him, a physical tug, and has no idea what it means. But he’s an _incubus_ , a handsome one, and she’s – a receptionist.

When she comes back out he’s dressed and her clothes are laid out on his bed. “At least let me walk you home,” Uryuu requests. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Ah – yes, I guess that’s a good idea,” she admits, and hurries into her clothes. They put on their shoes and coats in silence, and Uryuu locks up after them. He walks her downstairs and they set off back towards her apartment.

* * *

He glances at her as they walk, watching her shiver in the cool of the early spring night. This time of year it still gets close to freezing, some nights. Uryuu would much rather have her still in bed with him. Actually, he’s shocked she’s still upright – he fed _well_ , and feels like he won’t need to feed again for a week.

The thought of hunting again is suddenly so distasteful to him that Uryuu stops short. It’s a _strange_ feeling, and the pulling between them is still there. He wonders what the hell it could mean.

He doesn’t get the chance to find out just yet, though, because someone steps out of the shadows and his nose twitches. _Unseelie_ , he thinks, and his hand wraps around Orihime’s.

“Ah,” the tall, slender man before them. He’s taller than both of them, almost unnaturally so, and his hair is a disconcertingly bright pink. “There she is. And still a nice fat morsel despite _your_ interference, demon.”

Uryuu rolls his eyes. “She’s not fair game, fae. Go find someone else to play with tonight,” he says smoothly.

“Hmm, but where would the fun in that be?” the creature asks and steps into the lamplight. His eyes are heavily lined with kohl and he’s wearing a slim white coat over ripped jeans. He’d look human, except that his eyes are gleaming yellow and slitted like a cat’s. “ _Mmm,_ she smells so good! She’ll be a delicious meal for me.”

Orihime presses close to him, and the demon within him raises its head and _roars._ Uryuu’s wings explode from his back and his canines lengthen, eyes changing as his hands lengthen into claws. She startles but doesn’t run from him. “I said,” he announces, a growl in his throat, “that this woman is under my protection. And if you touch her, I’ll rip you apart.”

The unseelie laughs. “Going to risk a treaty over a human?” he asks, and drifts closer. “She’s pretty, but you’ve already fucked her. What’s the use in her now? Just turn her over to me,” he suggests, and waggles his eyebrows lasciviously. “I don’t mind sloppy seconds.”

“God, he’s so gross,” Orihime mutters, and Uryuu can’t help chuckling.

But the unseelie is still there, and Uryuu displays his claws. “As I said. I’ll rip you apart. _Go_.”

The fae just snorts and there’s a narrow blade in his hand. “Ridiculous,” he pronounces, and Uryuu shoves Orihime out of the way. His claws catch and grip the blade, using it to shove the fae back. But then they’re on each other, claws and teeth against magic and a sword. And under normal circumstances, the fae would have the upper hand.

It’s not normal circumstances. Uryuu can feel the pulse of Orihime’s heartbeat in his own chest and smell her fear – not of him but for him – as he faces off against the fae beneath the lamplight. It’s _him_ who draws first blood, and _him_ who slashes open his stomach and back, leaving him in a pool of his own shimmering black blood.

“ _Demon_.” The word is loud as a bell, and Uryuu turns. There’s another unseelie before him, a woman of the midnight court, and she looks at him with disgust. “Fighting in the streets? Do you wish to bring war to this place again?” She’s as beautiful as the unseelie man on the ground between them, maybe more, and she tosses her mane of bright blonde hair as she looks at him. “And in front of a _human_ ,” she hisses. “I’ll have you banished to the ninth hell and your organs torn from your flesh.”

Uryuu glances back at Orihime, who runs up to him and presses close. “He attacked a woman under my protection,” he says firmly.

And the unseelie startles. She steps closer, over the still-bleeding body of her comrade. Orihime flinches but stands firm and so does Uryuu, wings mantling around her protectively. And the fae says, “Oh. I see.”

Uryuu tugs Orihime closer. “Yes. It was in defense of another, and he wouldn’t back off,” he adds.

But the unseelie woman takes a deep inhale. “Oh, you don’t even know yet,” she says, and throws back her head to laugh. “I’ll tell you, demon, but only because I admire how you stand firm before a duchess of the midnight court. You’ve found your _mate_. And since you were defending your mate, I won’t report this.

“Count yourself lucky, incubus, that Granz is out of favor with the court and that you didn’t actually kill him.” She sweeps her arm out, and the shadows deepen around her and Granz’s body. When they clear, they’re both gone.

Uryuu’s wings gleam golden and disappear, and his claws and teeth return to normal. “Are you alright?” he asks gently, arm tight around Orihime.

She’s blushing in the lamplight. “What does she mean by _mate_?” she asks.

He clears his throat. “There’s an old story, so old I thought it was just a myth,” Uryuu admits. “Will you come back home with me? I’ll tell you the whole thing, and I’d feel better if you weren’t alone, in case the duchess changes her mind.”

“Hn.” She blushes again but nods and allows him to lead her back the way they came.

When they’re back in his apartment with fresh, hot tea before them, Uryuu pulls an old book from his shelves and places it before her. It’s a slim thing covered in black leather, and the pages are practically falling out; the kanji within is archaic. “The story goes that incubi weren’t always what we are,” he says quietly. “We didn’t _hunt_ for women to feed on; we had mates with whom we formed a bond. But we were corrupted, and with that corruption came the need to hunt.”

Orihime looks through the book carefully, fingers handling the pages delicately. “So incubi don’t have mates anymore?” she asks.

“That’s the old story. There are rumors sometimes, that an incubus has found his mate. That there _might_ be a woman in the world, someone with old blood and old power, who could be the mate of an incubus,” Uryuu says nervously. “But it’s like the old soulmate myths. it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack of billons of people, and most incubi are happy to claim any woman they want for a night or two and then move on.”

“That’s what you did tonight,” she say quietly. “You _hunted_ me, right?”

He clears his throat. “Well,” he says, embarrassed. “I followed something that was pulling me, actually. And that something turned out to be you. The book says that a mate will feel something, too.”

Orihime blushes as she closes the book and looks up at him. “When I was using your shower, I wanted to fling myself back into your arms,” she admits. “And I hated the idea of going back to my apartment tonight, but I thought – I mean, _look_ at me, Uryuu.”

Uryuu huffs and brushes his leg against hers. “You’re the loveliest woman I’ve ever seen,” he says roughly. “And I feel like I don’t ever want to let you go. Like I don’t want to _hunt_ anymore. I know that we don’t know each other well, Orihime, but – I’d like to get to know you.”

Her smile could light up a whole room. “I’d like that very much,” she admits softly.

It’s not a declaration of love on either of their parts, Uryuu thinks – it’s far too early for that – but it’s a nice start, to have her in his home, sipping tea and smiling at him in the predawn hour. To have her say that she wants to get to know him.

* * *

It doesn’t take long before Orihime is spending most nights in his apartment rather than hers. They quickly realize that the unseelie woman was right: Uryuu loses all interest in hunting anyone but _her_ , instead delighting in making her smile during the day – and scream his name at night.

Though she keeps her job at the modeling agency, Orihime moonlights over the summer as a model for Uryuu’s fall collection, posing in dresses made just for _her_ curves. She doesn’t land on the front cover of any magazines, but fashion blogs pick up on the photos and praise the House of Ishida for breaking the mold of his previous work. She meets his friend and financial advisor, Ichigo Kurosaki, and to Uryuu’s relief the other incubus has no interest in her except as his friend’s mate.

More importantly, though, Orihime wears the necklace he gives her, because it’s only been a few months and even though they’re _mates_ , neither is ready to start talking about words like _marriage_.

Then in the fall, as the leaves fall from the trees and the air grows cold again, Uryuu’s cellphone rings while he’s cooking dinner. He’s quickly learned that Orihime can’t be trusted in the kitchen; if he wants to eat with Orihime, _he_ has to do the cooking.

“Ishida,” he says in lieu of a hello.

“It’s Ichigo.”

Uryuu blinks at the phone, and he immediately turns the stove down to its lowest setting. “You think you found your mate, don’t you.” He doesn’t wait for an answer.

Ichigo sighs on the other end of the line, and Uryuu can hear the sound of something frying in the background. “Yeah, how did you know?”

Uryuu huffs. “I just do.”

“A few days ago I was summoned – not just pulled, summoned right onto a lakeshore. She’s a witch, a strong one. I fed off of her and it was like – well.” There’s a little shyness in Ichigo’s tone as he says, “It was better than it’s ever been. I left the next morning, but I didn’t want to hunt, and I felt her pulling me again…”

Uryuu blinks. “You _left her_? For how long?” He remembers what Orihime described, and the way she felt a few weeks ago when he was called away on an unexpected trip.

“Three days.”

“And how is she now?”

“Incubus-sick,” Ichigo admits quietly. “Really lethargic, hasn’t been eating.”

“You’re an _idiot_ ,” Uryuu says, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t you pay attention to _anything_ I said when you met Orihime and I for dinner?”

“…Yeah, I guess that was stupid of me.”

“Yes, it was. _Don’t_ leave her again. Get her fed, and stay close to her, until she isn’t incubus-sick anymore.”

“I won’t,” Ichigo promises.

“Good. And Ichigo? I’m happy for you,” Uryuu says, and hangs up the phone. His friend is ridiculously powerful…and sometimes, ridiculously stupid. How someone so good with money can be so bad with something like this, he doesn’t know.

But he sets that aside when Orihime steps into their apartment and takes her shoes off before joining him at the stove. He leans down to kiss her, and grins as she throws her arms around him.

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it - how Uryuu and Orihime got together in this AU. They'll be back in the fourth fic for this series, which is in the works.


End file.
